Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch
Leah
Leah's not sure where her sudden confidence has come from. Propelled by the heavy beating in her heart after seeing Alessia in her matching teddy bear pyjamas and bunny slippers. How could one person be so damn cute but also effortlessly sexy at the same time. Leah's hand is gripped around Alessia's as she lightly pulls her towards her room stopping only momentarily to bring the key to the door and let them both in.
‘Lie down,’ she instructs, ‘face down.’
She notices a small moment of hesitation on the striker's face but then she does what she is told. Leah quickly walks to the bathroom and grabs some lotion. The lavender aroma fills the room as she opens the jar and warms some in her hands. She is standing next to her bed over the striker by the offending shoulder. Ever so gently she reaches down and moves the shoulder of Less’s pyjama top to the side to reveal more of her. She gently touches her with one hand. Less takes a sharp inhale.
‘Are you ok? Was that too much pressure?’ Leah quickly says worried that she had caused the striker any kind of pain.
‘’s just cold.’
‘Oh ok,’ Leah replied exhaling, ‘let me know if the pressure is ok?’
Less doesn’t need to reply verbally as the defender starts to rub her shoulder. Leah can feel her relaxing under her hand. Leah to begin with is totally engrossed in what she is doing. She is mentally recalling everything she has heard from the physios about shoulder injuries and their treatment. She is taking care to work out the knot without causing any further damage. After what feels like an hour but what was realistically only 5 minutes, Leah's thoughts and eyes begin to wander.
She starts to look down at the striker's body. Less isn’t obviously muscular, but from this angle, Leah can see the strength of the muscles in her back contracting and relaxing. Leah is staring now at the contours of the striker's calves and thighs. Her legs are strong and powerful to carry her down the pitch at speed.
‘Stop it Leah,’ she scolds herself in her mind, ‘friends don’t objectify friends.’
Leah is broken from her deep thoughts by a noise coming from below her. Not exactly a moan or a whine but something similar. Leah's been with enough women to know that it wasn’t a moan of pain but most definitely a moan of pleasure.
Stop it Leah, she reprimands herself again, you don’t even know if she likes women.
‘Is that starting to feel any better?’ Leah asks the striker, pulling herself out of her thoughts before she says or does something she’ll regret.
Less slowly starts to sit up. She puts her opposite hand on her shoulder and starts to roll it backwards like they do to warm up in training but she feels no pain.
‘Wow it feels so much better!’ the striker exclaims, delight all over her face.
Leah beams, unable to hide how proud of herself she is.
‘Your hands must be magic.’ Less said as their eyes meet.
The defender feels her cheeks warm up and is suddenly thankful for the dim light of the room. She is not a coy person. She’s not cocky either but she is confident and she quickly reminds herself of that. She is Leah fucking Williamson for god sake.
So she replies, ‘not the first time I've been told that,’ with a smirk.
Now it's the strikers turn to blush. Leah turns around and grabs the towel she had left on the bed next to them earlier and wipes her hands before turning back round. Eyes now met with Less standing behind her. They speak softly.
‘Thank you Lee, I don't think I would have gotten any sleep with how sore it was before.’
‘No problem, Russo, happy to be of assistance.’
Leah’s eyes are wandering all over the striker's face. Her cheeks are rosy and her hair is messy. Before her brain catches up with her, Leah has brought her hand up to the striker's head and is lightly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand lingers for a fraction of a second and she could have sworn in that moment that the striker moves her head the tiniest bit towards her hand. But then her brain catches up with what she has done and her hand quickly jolts back down to her side. She is now all too conscious of how long she has been starting. Seemingly memorising every line, bump and blemish. Alessia has no blemishes.
‘I should probably go back to my room now,’ the striker says barely above a whisper, ‘Georgia will be wondering where I've gone.’
‘Oh. Right. Yeah. Absolutely.’ The defender stumbles on her words and on her own feet as she moves out the way. She watches the striker slowly move towards the door, take a small pause with her hand on the door handle and then swing the door open to walk through. The door closed gently behind her.
‘Fuckkkkk,’ Leah mutters as she falls backwards onto her bed, the duvet still warm from the striker's body.